Apsaras guard the highest heights,
Their bellies in shadow, their backs pure white,
They make a most majestic sight,
Wheeling and dancing in perfect flight.

Vayu whispers, Prithvi breathes,
Indra deepens into night.
Leaves on trees embrace the breeze;
Surya sheds his light.

        Rakshasas scuttle all around,
        Seeking the shadows close to the ground,
        Some are fleet, with many feet,
        Others frown solid as stone.
        Most have an appeteat for meat,
        And all should be left alone.

I turn my brow to Surya's skies,
And will his rays within there,
To warm the blood between my eyes,
That I might take a swim there.
 
 

Mount Abu, Rajasthan, January 1991